Desole'e
by Nerdy Nymph
Summary: A girl who can't talk is somehow transported to a world full of mages and magic. She meets four mages and all hell breaks loose. Will she talk again? Takes place after The Will of the Empress.


High school sucks. Cliche city. It's either cheerleaders going with jocks or the popular guy going with the nerd or outcast. Happy ever after right? WRONG! What about the people who aren't the "super" nerd or cheerleader? What about the people who are clever but aren't seen as nerds? What about the average people and the "nobodies"? No one hears "Happy ever after" at their end of the story. They're only the back drop. . . I happen to be one of them.

Many call me bitter. Great, don't really give a crap. So love's not for me, big deal. Okay. . . I'm lying. I'm one of those people who look at couples and feel pangs in their hearts from envy. I'm one of the people who know they are meant for parent hood. Who know, given the right person, would be the perfect partner. Who am I exactly? I am a nobody. Invisible. I'm Desole`e Michelle Litu`an. Ask anyone from my school who I am and most of them will come up only people who do know me are the people I write to on Fictionpress and Fanfiction, to all else I don't exist, I seem to fade from their memory within five minutes of meeting them. In fact, some people don't even remember what my name is, they call me Stacy, when they call me at all. Others would answer "Oh, isn't she the girl who doesn't talk?"

That's another thing about me. I don't talk, as in I can't. I try to talk but no sound comes out. The first time I found out I had started kindergarden and well, I freaked out.

We were sitting in our little tables, several other girls giggling. I sat in the farthest desk from the board and drew on a piece of paper from my new tablet. I was excited but I didn't show it, I didn't know anyone and was really nervous. Then the bell rang and a small, Asian woman walked into the room. She looked kind and she was smiling.

"Hello class," she called out to us and everyone sad, "Hello," back. That is, everyone but me.

While I'm sitting there, opening and closing my mouth, puzzled why no sound will come out, my new teacher decides for everyone to introduce themselves. Of course she can't be like normal teachers and start with the front, no, she has to start with the back. Me.

So she looks at me, smiling, and asks, "What's your name?" I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. By that time I'm desperate and tears are in my eyes. Everyone is staring at me as I open and close my mouth, crying for no apparent reason. Let's just say Kindergarden wasn't that fun for me and leave it at that.

That afternoon, my teacher called my parents and I was whisked off to countless doctors shoving things down my throat. Cold things.

The strangest thing was that nothing was wrong with me. In fact, I was the healthiest child they had seen, or so they told my mom and dad. So I was sent to more doctors, specialists, and still nothing was wrong with me. Then they tried the psychiatrists. So every day after school, for two hours, I had to sit on a leather couch that squeaked if I moved and listen to a guy tell me how I felt and why. To say I hated it is a gross understatement. Fortunately, that ended in third grade when I didn't show improvement. So for the next seven years I had to never raise my hand, hide in my chair when we had a substitute in case they called on me and not have any friends. That didn't affect my grades though. I had a lot of extra time, and though I hated Biology and sucked at it, I had the time to still get good grades and improve myself. I had straight A's (with one B in Biology but come on! Its Bio!!), though no one knew about it. I couldn't really boast, now could I?

After third grade my parents ignored it. I still talked at home so of course they could pretend I was normal. That all changed when I was twelve in seventh grade. At home I slowly stopped speaking there too. My speech dwindled to one word answers, then unintelligible grunts and then nothing at all. Again came the doctors and the psychiatrists. This time though, there was something new. IQ tests. Apparently they wanted to test if I were "Mentally challenged" or an _idiot savant. _You know those people who are able to do the most amazing, complex things like figuring out 5,672,381,836 multiplied to 648,275,839 in their head but not able to do the most basic things like go to the bathroom by themselves? You know, like Einstein. That theory was flushed down the toilet when I had slightly high IQ scores but below genius level and was able to function normally.

I've had people tell me I do this for attention and had some defend me. It didn't really matter to me seeing as no one even _tried _to talk to me. See, I have a theory of my own. I can't/won't, whatever, talk until someone that knows that I "can't" talk actually tries to have a conversation with me . So, for the past three years I haven't said a word, not even to myself. I'm a shadow, not anything tangible in this world. It's amazing some people even remember my name seeing as no one says it, there's no need. So I'm all alone except for myself and my cat. I know, sad. But I though _Eh, what the heck. Better get a head start on being a cat lady. _So that's how Shadow came into my life. Don't ask me how, but I was able to get my parents to know I wanted a cat and wha lah! Being an only child has its perks.

Now here are some ways I thought being unable to talk might be a drag. Normally, I like the silence but being silent can sometimes suck a lot. For example:

Trying to ask someone out (Heh, right)

If you could win a million bucks and all you had to say was your name.

When someone steals your purse in New York (Well, it wouldn't matter any way but it's the principle...)

When you're trying to get someones attention who is turned away from you

talking to someone on a phone or answering the phone when your parents are out

if you dream of being a singer

You bump into someone and the accidental take your book by mistake when they grab theirs.

trying to tell someone "I love you"

and that's just from the top of my head.

Now, where was I before my tirade? Oh, yea, cliches. I hate them.

Life's full of them. Sometimes I just wish I could crawl into one of my books and live there. It would be way more original. I'm kind of sick of my life altogether. Not that I'd do suicide or anything. Eww. In my opinion, you should either get help if you're depressed enough to kill yourself or shut the hell up, grit your teeth and bear it. Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. And also, be mad all you like, but I see that as the weak way out. If you screwed up your life you should deal with it because it's your fault and if it isn't your fault then kick the person who caused its ass. As the saying goes: it takes seventy-four muscles to frown but only four to lift your hand and deck them. . . or something like that. Anyway, life's short, live it anyway you can. But who gives a crap what I think, people have their own opinion to worry about.

Well, that's enough of my tirade. I'm kind of bored anyway. Oh, and there is another thing weird about me other than my no speech thing. My eyes are well, you'll think I'm insane or kidding but. . . they're _rainbow._ I know, what the hell is she talking about?! Well, my eyes have a normal pupil and they have a black ring around the iris. But in between that, my eyes shoot out colors from purple to red, like my pupil is the sun and the colors are its rays. So usually I just keep my head down. When they are noticed, they bring up questions I can't answer.

My eyes are also more pronounced because of my coal black, straight hair. Both my parents are blond so I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm adopted. You should see us together at one of my mom's 'social parties.' Usually I stay in my room but sometimes my dad drags me out. People see us together and never think we're related. I've had people come up to me at one of these 'galas' and think I'm a maid. I crack up but my parents always look stricken. Then someone'll see my eyes and my parents have to explain that, no they aren't contacts, Desole'e can't explain this to you because she can't talk, no she's not retarded, and, yes, she really is our daughter. In the end I go up to my room and listen to music, petting Shadow while I bob my head. It was funny to see how people reacted at first but after the fiftieth time it gets annoying.

Back to the not looking any thing like my parents. Both are tall, blond and tan with blue eyes. My mom is slim with hair cut to her shoulders and my dad is muscular. My mom is elegant, always wearing dresses or dress pants and my dad is always in a suit. My mom is an artist director at a museum while my dad is the head of a prestigious law firm. Upper class and always into charity functions. What you would expect upper class white collar people to be. Apparently my family has been like that for the last ten generations.

Now picture me, the blach sheep of the family. A short (I don't even come up to my dad's shoulder!) , pale girl with too-big multi-colored eyes, full too-puffy lips and a short, pointy nose. My face is short and heart shaped, dominated by my eyes that seem to eat up what little there is of my forehead. My lips, are well big and puffy....they are slightly too wide for my face which just accents the fact that I have a small nose. My hair is so long it reaches my hips. I never cut it because well. . . it actually hurts me mentally. I've gotten the worst headache ever the few times I have cut it. But that's for another time. I wear jeans and t-shirts, always listening to punk rock and techno on my ipod. I eat anything and everything yet not gain an ounce. Yes, I am one of those hated bitches with the metabolism of a teenage boy. My body never changes from its shape. I look like a manga styled cupie doll. Do we sound like we belong in the same family tree? Thought not.

And you'd think with so much strange things about my appearance that I would get a lot of attention, but no. Its strange, whenever someone looks at me their eyes float right past me, as if I'm not even there, like a ghost. You would be amazed at how many times people have walked into me because they didn't "see" me and how many times I've been marked absent from school because of it. It gets annoying after a while. I have a theory that if I dressed up as a clown and walked around screaming "PICKLES ARE COMING TO EAT OUR BRAINS!" no one would even blink or notice.

But other than that, I concider myself pretty normal and average... I have fears, a lot actually: I'm afraid of pain, of death, of my ipod dieing, afraid of not finding "the one", afraid of big dogs, afraid of crowds, afraid of performing, afraid of failing, afraid of being unable to talk my whole life, and many more things.... I have wants: I want to be able to talk, to not feel alone anymore, to be loved, for someone to know me, to care enough to know me.....I have flaws, I always forget to pick up my wet towel from the floor, to take out the trash, I am too timid, I am very stubborn to the point of being part mule, I sneak out of assemblies to go to the library, I feed my vegtables to Shadow at the dinner table (who for some reason loves them..ick!), I watch too much T.V. and don't do outside activities that much, I trip cheerleaders that tease other people (though I don't see it as that much of a fault haha) and smile as they cry about "broken nails", I sometimes don't put change in those bottles labled "donations", I bite my nails....you can stop me at anytime you know...haha

The reason I'm explaining all this to you is because in someway or other it has to do with one of the most shocking, disturbing and fun week of my life. Remember my comment of how I wish I could climb into one of my books? There's more to that than you'd think.


End file.
